Keepers of Eä
by janevlyzan
Summary: Rundil's first memory is of running. The need to get away as far as possible and blend in. So she made her home in the kingdoms of men. After the fall of Sauron, she might finally be able to discover her history, perhaps even find love. But when Mithrandir sends her and Glorfindel on one last quest, they find that the darkness might not have been vanquished after all.
1. Chapter 1

They reached the entrance of Rivendell in the early hours of October 21. Eylra froze when she saw the gates. Any other time she would be awe-struck by the likes of the Last Homely House, but this place: it caused all kinds of strange feelings of half-remembering; like a dream of which the memory lingers, but you cannot remember any details.

Boromir drew in a sharp breath next to her. "So it does exist," he murmured.

Eylra shivered. He put an arm around her shoulders and stroked her back. After some time, he leaned down to kiss her forehead and tugged her hand.

"We need to go, Eylra."

She gave him a smile, though inside she was a ball of nerves. Had she known this was where Boromir was headed, she would most likely never have put up such an enormous fight to convince him to take her along. If only Rundil had refused to let her go. But both she and Denethor had been strangely compliant. Right now she wished her sister still had the protectiveness of their early years in Rohan.

They encountered elf-guards. Boromir did the speaking. Eylra could not have opened her mouth if she tried. The presence of so many elves were suffocating.

A tall, dark-haired ellon met them in the courtyard.

"Welcome, my friends, to Rivendell, the House of Elrond. I am Lord Elladan Elrondion. I apologise that my Lord Father cannot see you now. However, you are invited to partake in a council where we believe all your questions will be answered. But come; you have travelled a long, weary road. Let us give you breakfast."

Lord Elladan led them to a big dining hall where a few people were milling about, eating and chatting. He sat down across Eylra, studying her intently. She was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. "Forgive my scrutiny," he said as if he could read her thoughts. "I am very curious as to why an elf Lady is travelling with the heir of the Stewardship of Gondor."

Boromir choked. Eylra's hands automatically went to her ears. They were still glamoured.

Elladan's eyes lit up amusedly. "Ears are not the only distinguishing feature of our kind, my Lady. And names not the only way to identify a man."

Before either of them could reply, a whirlwind swept through the door of the dining hall, hurtling straight towards Lord Elladan. He jumped out of his seat, his robes flying about him. Eylra felt her eyes widen in shock. There was now two of Elladan. Only, one was dressed in what seemed to be a night-shirt that hung to his knees.

His eyes widened and he pointed at them. "Look, Elladan, it's an elleth and a Gondorian noble man! We need to hide Estel." He swung around, finger still in the air. "But first, you need to help me find that insufferable elfling. He took my robes, I am certain of it! You know how he cannot resist anything pretty."

Elladan in robes sighed. "I was making such a good impression and then you came. At least greet our guests."

Elladan in a night shirt flushed. "Sorry about that. I am Elrohir. And the elfling stole my robes. Now father is going to have a fit and ban me from hunting for a decade. That bread is really good, do try it. Elladan, where is he?"

Elladan sighed again. "I have not seen him since yesternight. He has been quite... subdued lately."

"He has been planning this all along! Disrespectful orc."

An elleth waltzed into the dining hall and Eylra almost forgot to breathe. All elves loved beauty. This must be the most beloved creature of all: the paragon of elvish fairness.

She reminded of midnight and twinkling stars, something too subtle to put your finger on, but undeniable, gentle and mystic.

"Elrohir," she said with a hint of mirth in her liquid voice. Then she noticed Eylra and Boromir. "Ah, good morning. I am Arwen Elrondiel."

"What?" Elrohir asked before Eylra could reply, almost hopping up and down.

"Brother mine, what are your robes doing in the tree outside my room?"

Elrohir gasped. " _That_ is where I left it!"

"Well, hurry up and find it. We need to escort all the guests to Father's council," Ellandan frowned.

Arwen turned to Eylra, "Are you attending the council, Lady? For if not, I would love to show you the gardens."

Boromir looked at her. "I do not mind going alone," he said softly.

Eylra nodded. "Do not do anything stupid."

"Do not worry, I will keep him out of mischief," Elrohir said, grinning like a maniac.

* * *

It was in the gardens where Glorfindel and his companion found her that afternoon. "My, my," the warrior said. "The Steward's son did not say his companion was a Lady of Gondor."

"Glorfindel," she nodded.

"So tell me, how has Denethor allowed a mere woman to accompany his oh-so-strong son?"

Eylra smiled. Glorfindel had always been able to lighten her spirit. She had missed him since he stopped travelling with Mithrandir. It was must have been almost two centuries since she last saw him.

"You know he is stubborn, but not stubborn enough to deny logic. Yet."

"You forget that I have never met the current steward."

"Well, you would not let that keep you from knowing, now would you?"

Glorfindel smiled widely. "Allow me to introduce you to his Highness, crown prince of Mirk... the Woodland Realm." He motioned to his companion, an elf in simple clothes of earthy colours. He wore it like a king, though. Eylra's breath struck in her throat. If Arwen was the embodiment of the best parts of midnight, he was a bright summer's day. He stepped forward and bowed over her hand. "Well met, my Lady. But please, call me Legolas. Glorfindel is too fond of fanfare."

"Eylra," she managed to get out, desperately trying to fight her blush.

"How is your esteemed sister, Eylra?" Glorfindel asked with a smirk into the awkward silence that followed.

Eylra swallowed, dragging her eyes away from the golden prince to the first elf she could remember meeting. "Rundil is as good as ever. She has been posing as a soldier again for the last decade or so. She is a commander now."

He grinned. "Good for her, running around under the steward's nose."

"It is not the steward we are worried of these days," Eylra told him.

Glorfindel frowned. "Ah, yes. The shadow of Mordor. Boromir told us about it."

"And your treacherous journey," Legolas interjected. "You must be exhausted."

Eylra met his eyes with a shy smile. "It was quite taxing, but I was able to get some rest while you were busy with the council."

"Good, good," he smiled at her and she noticed how his smile was perfectly symmetrical, warm and genuine.

"Well then," Glorfindel grinned, amused. "You two seem to not need me anymore. Have fun," he winked at Eylra and disappeared down a trail. Eylra blushed again and chanced a look at Legolas. His smile widened and he held out his arm to her. She took it, eyes lowered.

"So," he said as they started down a trail.

"So," Eylra repeated.

He shot her an amused look. "Lady Eylra. How did you meet the legendary Lord Glofindel? And why is he so interested in your sister?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Legolas jolted back into motion. He could not believe it. Sauron had fallen. Frodo had done it. The threat was over. But his task was not. He had a promise to keep. He looked apprehensively at the rubble from Sauron's tower. Orc corpses mingled with giant boulders and ash...

The memory of how agitated Faramir had looked strengthened his resolve. He could still hear him. "Legolas, please. I would not ask this from anyone, much less you, but we need to save them. And he has her."

Legolas made his way over the rubble into the late enemy's territory. There were still some orcs about, but without their master's will to drive them, he made quick work of any who came in his way. He made for Minas Morgul, under which the dungeons were said to be, hoping the prisoners had not been killed in the crumbling.

He picked up the sound of running footsteps over the sound of the exploding Orodriun. He readied himself for fighting. But it was not orcs appearing from behind the boulder. They were human. Only barely, though. They had been tortured. He wordlessly pointed them in the direction of the army and continued onward. He met more prisoners as he neared the place, some supporting the weakest that could not walk. He rounded a boulder and paused to take in the scene. A host of orcs had decided not to let a potential meal escape and was attacking the emerging humans. A handful still strong enough were fighting the almost two score orcs. Legolas joined the fray, preventing the orcs from pursuing those who had already escaped.

"Aronir," a female voice drifted from the fighting, "take the others; they are turning to them. Get them out of here and be quick about it."

"Commander..." a voice objected.

"Don't argue. Get them to safety."

"Yes, Commander."

Legolas saw four figures retreating and hasten over to the escapees, helping them to safety. He finished the last orc he could reach and turned towards the fighting figure of the woman. She eliminated the last five orcs with careless grace. She pulled a face as she wiped her sword on the garment of a dead orc, before straightening and making her way to him.

Legolas's breath caught. Surely this was not possible? This skeletal, bruised and bloodied creature without hair and with hollow eyes could not be... "Eylra," he choked out. He regained control of his limbs and hurried towards her. "Eylra, what in the name of..."

He stopped short when the tip of a sword was pressed against his throat. Ice blue eyes regarded him. "I am not who you think I am." Her voice was heavily accented as she spoke Sindarin.

Legolas gathered his thoughts. Of course. The resemblance was astounding, but there were subtle differences now that he looked for it. She had a stronger, more square jaw for one, and lighter eyes. The rest was covered in filth.

"My lady, I believe I know exactly who you are." She snorted. He pushed her sword away and gave an overly pompous bow. "Lady Rundil, a pleasure to make you acquaintance."

"So you are the prince of Mirkwood. Figures," she started walking to where the others had gone.

He knew his surprise showed on his face, but she ignored it. He followed her.

"Who sent you?" she asked.

"Lord Faramir."

"How is he?"

"Healing." She did not ask for details.

"Boromir?" He winced. Her features hardened. "Know anything about Eylra?"

"She should be safely in Imaldris."

"Is _that_ where he dragged her? Will she be able to return or will I have to go and retrieve her?"

Legolas felt is lips twitch. "It Imaldris we speak of, my Lady. Not Gondolin."

"Glorfindel," she growled and threw something. Legolas heard a grunt and looked left sharply. An orc was sinking to its knees, a dagger in its throat. How had he not heard it approaching? And how had she? Rundil pulled he dagger free and wiped the blood on the creature's clothes.

They reached the field where tents were being set up and were promptly surrounded by a throng of Gondorian soldiers, all talking excitedly.

"Shut it, will you?" she grumbled.

They quieted down immediately. Her eye fell on a young soldier and she lifted an eyebrow. "Dirrion, why don't you brief me?"

He nodded and grimly gave her a summary of the battles so far, including the one in which Faramir was hurt.

She nodded. "Thank you, Soldier. Now go clean up, you smell like a pack of orcs."

"You are definitely the orc here," one of the men told her, scrunching his nose. Rundil gave him a feral grin. "Well wee human, I think I will have you for supper. Man-flesh."

The men around them hooted and laughed. Rundil punched him on the bicep. "You are on dishes tonight, soldier."

The man pursed his lips. "Yes, commander."

"Oh cheer up, I am resigning. Then you will get that promotion you have been after."

His fists clenched. Legolas stepped forward before it could escalate.

"Milady," her started. He was interrupted by chortles. He blinked at the soldiers. They quieted. "Just," one shrugged helplessly. "She is no lady."

"Her sister, now," another added, winking.

Rundil hit him upside of the head. "Don't talk of my sister like that. It's disgusting. Like she would look at the likes of you." She jerked her head to Legolas. "He is much more her type."

Legolas fought the blush rising to his cheeks. Rundil tilted her head. She was seeing far too much. He cleared his throat. "We need to get you to the healers."

That certainly got her attention. "I'd rather not."

"You should really have your injuries looked at."

Rundil snorted. "I already know what is wrong."

"The sons of Elrond have skills beyond..." he trailed off when she spun to him.

"They are here?" she hissed.

Legolas took a step back. "I... yes. Yes, they are."

"Well, then, by all means, lead the way, princeling!" she swept her hand forward imperially. In that moment she reminded him so much of his father that Legolas did not consider being offended until they were halfway to the healers' tent.

Rundil fumed as she stalked in the pretty prince's wake. As if weeks of enduring the witch king were not enough! Now she had to deal with elves in scores. And the dreadful duo decided to show up. Oh, how she would love to get her hands on those scrawny necks! How she would...

Her musings came to a halt when the blond prince did. He gestured to the tent in front of them uncertainly. Rundil swept past him and into the structure.

"Elrondion!" she yelled.

Two heads popped up. Elladan came tentatively closer, eyes narrowed.

"I will not disturb the sick," she hissed at him. "But know this," her eyes flicked to Elrohir, who she knew could hear every word. "When you leave this structure I will feed your insides to the wargs that haunt the hills and your eyes to the great spiders. Your spleens will be..."

"No." Elladan's face were dawning with horror. "No, no, no." He shook his head.

"How are you still here?" Elrohir's whisper came. "You rode with us over four centuries ago."

Rundil bared her teeth at them. "You will have no rest. Mark my words."

"Please, have mercy," Elladan said.

There was a soft cough from behind. "Erm, lady Rundil..." Legolas started.

The twins froze and then cracked up with laughter.

"Lady," Elladan chortled.

Rundil rolled her eyes. "What is it, your highness?"

"The sons of Elrond are the best healers around. They are vital to many lives. I am certain what they have done to offend you can be settled without any blood spilt?"

Rundil's eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea what injury they have caused me?"

Legolas stepped back. "No. But," Rundil turned around to Elladan.

"Now, Elrondion, you have a choice. Either you come outside and we settle this honourably..."

"Miss Rundil, I really must ask-"

"Quiet," Rundil held up a hand to the prince. "Or, I will be forced to..."

"Surely enough blood has been-"

"Shut up!" both Elladan and Elrohir hissed. "Let the woman finish, will you?" Elrohir added.

"Thank you," Rundil said.

"Of course," Elladan said. "Elflings these days."

Rundil felt her lips twitch. Then she narrowed her eyes again. "After the grave injury you have done me, I have never been the same. I have fought off death century after century to fulfil my vengeance. You will not go unpunished. I will stalk your nights and ruin your days. Never will you find rest. Ever will you be awake, paranoid and suspicious like Finrod of old," Elrohir drew in a sharp breath. Rundil grinned, satisfied. "I will not rest until I have exacted my revenge in kind."

The genuine fear on their faces soothed Rundil's frayed temper.

"Surely not," Elladan said.

"Mercy," Elrohir pleaded. "Do you have any idea how I would look without hair?"

Elladan scoffed. "You would be fine. Me, on the other hand..." he shivered.

Legolas shook his head. "Wait. You are not planning on killing them?"

"Legolas," Elrohir said slowly.

"Yes?"

"The perianneth are behind that screen."

The prince gasped. "Sam and Frodo!" he hurried off.

Elladan shook his head. "Shame on you. They saved us."

Elrohir shrugged. "I just could not take it anymore."

Their heads swivelled to Rundil. "Now, Ardith," Elrohir started.

"I think we have been deceived, brother," Elladan said. "If I am not mistaken this is lady Eylra's sister. Rundil, is it not?"

"No!"

"Well done, Elladan. You always were the sharper one."

"Oi!"

Rundil swivelled to Elrohir. "Oh, so it was you who came up with that horrid idea?"

He shook his head vehemently. "He's the smart one, like you said. He made all the plans. Bullied me into going along. I was too stupid to come up with an argument against."

"That's what I thought."

Elladan shot a glare at his brother. "Now, Rundil, can we not let bygones be bygones?"

Rundil hissed and pointed to her head. "Do you see this? No hair. I have been hairless for four centuries!"

Both their faces turned to horror.

She listened to their stumbled apologies for some minutes before rolling lifting a hand. "I will exact my revenge. But first, draw me a bath, will you?" she pulled her tunic over her head, ignoring their scandalised protests and showed them her back. Both quieted immediately.

"Think you can fix it?"

A dark man walked in at moment, taking in the scene. "You were in Minas Morgul?" he asked her quietly.

"Indeed."

He nodded. "Come with me. I have just the thing."

Rundil lifted an eyebrow and pulled her tunic back on. "I like this one. Elrondions, I will be back for you. Do not become complacent."

She followed the man to a screen, where he motioned her into a tub with a hearty smelling herb in the water. Rundil breathed it deeply. "Well, aren't you just full of surprises."

He regarded her steadily and did not even blink when she undressed and got into the tub. "Well, at least the elves did not mess you up," she muttered.

"You are not fond of elves?" he asked mildly.

"I find most of them trying. Except Glorfindel. I love Glorfindel."

For the first time surprise flickered on his face. Rundil closed her eyes and leaned back in the tub. This day was shaping up better than she had expected.


	3. Chapter 3

Rundil made her way to the Rohirrim's tents. She had snuck out of the healers' tents after the twins and Aragon had left her alone, confident that the sleeping draught they had put in her tea would keep her in bed. Rundil snorted. Not likely. She had not spent decades in the Eastern deserts immunising herself to all kinds of poisons for naught. She still wore the nightshirt Elrohir had given her after her bath. She kept to the shadows to avoid attention. Finally, she reached the paddocks. And there, brushing a huge white stallion, was the light haired giant.

Rundil lifted herself onto the rails of the paddock. The stallion shook his head and nickered.

Eomer spun around. He took a few seconds to take her in, then closed the distance between them in two strides and crushed her against him, pulling her from the railings. "Rundil."

She leant into his form. "Eomer."

He pulled back and looked her up and down. "What happened to you?"

"Sauron."

He grimaced. "Lovely."

"I see Firefoot grew into a glorious piece of flesh."

He tugged her over to the majestic animal. "Firefoot, remember Rundil? She always spoiled you rotten."

Firefoot sniffed at her offered palm and bumped her playfully with his head.

"Sorry, you oversized colt, I don't have carrots."

Firefoot nibbled her hair and Rundil laughed, stroking his ears.

"He allows you to play with his ears." Eomer said blankly.

"I have a woman's touch."

"A woman's touch," he muttered. "And you like horses." He looked at her clothes, or rather, lack thereof. "Have you finally decided to take up my offer?"

Rundil laughed. "Which one?"

He stepped closer. "To share my bed, of course."

She hit his chest. "You know I don't play around."

He caught her wrist. "Marry me."

Rundil froze. "Where did that come from?"

"Will you?"

"No."

"Why not?" He stepped closer to her. "It makes perfect sense. You are good with horses, you understand the Rohirrim, you are a great kisser, you like me, and you become queen."

"Eomer. Has your court been pestering you about an heir?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "They are driving me crazy!"

"Alright."

"You will?"

"No. But I'll play along to keep them off you back for a while. But don't tell anything. Let them guess. I don't want to cause a scandal when you find her."

"I won't," he whined.

"You have never had a problem to get women before."

"It's different. This is forever. And official."

"Doesn't one of your council members have a daughter?"

He groaned. "Almost all of them. And that makes it very political. If I take someone from the Westmark, Northmark moans about favouritism. The men are advertising their daughters like horses. I do not have the strength to deal with that."

"Someone from Gondor, then?"

"But they are so stuck-up!"

"Oh, you don't even know them. Who is the most highborn lady in Gondor?"

"Boromir did not have a sister," he said with the customary Rohirric bluntness.

"No."

"His brother and Eowyn are prancing at each other."

"Eowyn and Faramir," Rundil grinned.

Eomer scowled. "Yes."

"Almost like Eylra and Legolas."

Eomer guffawed.

"He thought I was her and started stomping his hooves around me. And I can just see her falling for a pretty face like his."

Eomer kept chuckling, then suddenly stopped. "Wait. Is this a new craze for elves to marry mortals?"

Rundil shifted. "Well..."

His eyes sharpened, boring into hers.

"Erm, Eylra might have elvish blood."

"Is that all? Quite a few mortals have. The house of Dol Amroth has as well, as did my great-grandmother."

"Hmm. Er, Eomer? Can I... show you something?"

"Sure," he frowned.

"Don't freak out."

"What is it?"

Rundil grabbed onto his forearms and took a deep breath. She met his eyes and let the glamour fall away.

Eomer stood frozen for a few moments, then he swore and yanked free, walking a few steps.

Rundil slumped against Firefoot. He nickered and butted her with his head.

* * *

 _Some weeks later_

Rundil pushed her way through the throng. "Out of my way, you orcs." She huffed when she finally reached the front. Then her eyes caught the cause for the commotion. Elves. And not any elves. Lady Galadriel herself was at the front with Celeborn of Doriath.

Rundil did not allow herself to dwell on that. Instead her eyes searched out the colours of Imaldris. There. She was running over the field before she could register what was happening. "Elyra!"

There came a strangled gasp and then a figure jumped down from her horse and came running. The force of their bodies colliding bruised Rundil's newly healed ribs, but she welcomed it as she held her baby sister.

Elyra was laughing and crying. "I missed you, Rundie. And Boromir..."

"You are safe now. I am right here and Boromir deserved a hero's end."

Eylra gripped her again and dried her tears. "I love you, Rundil."

"You too, Eyl."

Rundil glared at the staring elves over Eylra's shoulder. "Curious elves. They should mind their own business."

Eylra gasped. "Oh no! This is a horrible breach in protocol!"

Rundil snorted. "Oh please. Even elves can't be that pompous." Eylra covered her eyes with her hands. Rundil rolled her eyes and pulled Eylra along at the wrist. "Come on, some wood elf has been pestering me about you for weeks now. And Eomer misses you. Says you are the best lover he ever had." Eylra's face was horrified. "Yes, that is about how Legolas looked as well."

Eylra groaned. "You ruined my reputation!"

"Oh, I think we rather built it up. Almost as good as Eomer's."

By the time they reached the tents, the greetings between Aragon, Legolas, Eomer, Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn and Lord Elrond had already taken place.

Legolas caught sight of them and promptly flushed. Rundil led Eylra over to him and excused herself. She was just about to vanish in the throng, when her eye saw a smattering of gold.

"Glorfindel!"

The golden head snapped up. He broke off his conversation and walked over to her, grinning, pulling her into a bear hug. "Hello, Love. Missed me?"

"You know I cannot live without you. You are like air to me, water to my body and all that."

He grinned and looked her up and down. His expression turned serious. "What happened to you?"

"Angmar got me." Glorfindel pulled in a breath. "So I lived as a guest of Sauron's for a few months."

His eyes hooded, Glorfindel reached out a hand and touched her face. "Are you alright?"

"Of course not. My ribs are healed, but my back still looks like a battlefield. My hair grew back, luckily."

He gently pulled her close and pressed a kiss onto her lips. "If you need anything at all, you know where to find me," he said before catching her hand and steering her towards a group of elves who were trying to watch them without staring.

"Now, you know the twins, this is their lovely sister, Arwen. That stuck up scholar is Erestor, this is Haldir from Lothlorien. This is Rundil. Eylra is her sister."

"We gathered that," Haldir muttered. "Tell me, Lady Rundil, why do you think elves are pompous?"

Rundil frowned. Haldir smirked. "You are not the only one with enhanced hearing."

Rundil swore. "I keep forgetting that."

Glorfindel's hand travelled to the small of her back. "Language, Love. We are in polite company," he said with a small smile.

"I apologise, Lady Arwen."

She gave a mischievous smile. "Oh, that is alright. I have two brothers after all."

"And a manly fiancé," Erestor added. Arwen blushed faintly.

"Congratulations on that. He is a fine catch. Healthy teeth, strong hindquarters, gleaming mane..."

Rundil trailed off at their expressions. The twins had been staring at her since she had joined the group and were strangely quiet, but now the others' faces were also contorting. There came a snort from next to her. "Been spending copious amounts of time with the Rohirrim?" Glorfindel asked.

"Well, Eomer is a bit down after the whole Saruman fiasco and his councilmen are pressuring him to get a wife... Oh. Did I use horse talk?"

"You commented on Aragorn's hindquarters."

"Well, they are attractive. Better than any elf's."

There came a strangled sound from Haldir. Rundil continued, unperturbed, "Elves are too lanky. Nothing to hold onto."

Glorfindel was shaking with suppressed mirth. "Oh goodness, Rundil, you are scarring these poor innocents. "

"I know for certain the twins are not innocent." Rundil glanced at the smirking duo.

Elrohir clutched his chest. "You wound me, Rundil. I am as innocent as untrampled morning dew."

Rundil snickered. "I am sure."

Glorfindel tugged on her hand. "Let us leave before we... trample the dew or something. I want to introduce you to Elrond. Oh, and Celeborn will adore you."

"Well, then, see you around," Rundil nodded and allowed Glorfindel to guide her along. "You know, all your stories of Gondolin have been confusing me greatly. I was on my way to call together an army to go and retrieve Eylra from a hidden Elvish city."

"Well, Imaldris _is_ a hidden elf valley."

Rundil growled. "You were purposely confusing me with all kinds of tall tales from the First Age. And you never even told me you had died!"

They reached a group of elves at that moment. Everyone turned eerily quiet. "Who told you that?" Glorfindel asked quietly. His face had turned pale and drawn, eyes hard as stone. Rundil's features softened. She reached up to cup his jaw. "Perhaps we should discuss it later?" she asked quietly. Glorfindel exhaled sharply and caught her hand. "Perhaps." He kissed her knuckles and turned to face the elves. He inclined his head. "My Lady, My Lords. This is Rundil."

Rundil nodded. "Well met. Lord Celeborn, I have always wanted to meet you."

The tall, silver haired elf grinned. "I like her already." His voice was deep, like the Rauros.

"Your mind is shadowed from me," came the misty tones of the Lady of the Light.

Rundil winced. "Yeah, that..."

Glorfindel's arm tightened around her. "Rundil was a visitor of Minas Morgul for a while."

The three nobles' features sharpened. "How long?" Elrond asked.

"Legolas worked out it was around three months," Rundil said.

"You met the princeling?" Glorfindel asked with a grin in his voice.

"Unfortunately. I left Eylra with him. They are hopeless."

"So adorable. Why don't you get all flustered when I am around, Rundil?"

Rundil snorted. "I am not a shy damsel."

"Of course not. How silly of me. You have a horselord for a lover, after all."

"Glorfindel!" came Elrond's disapproving tone. An eyebrow was added for good measure.

"I apologise profusely, Lord Elrond," he said with a mischievous smile.

Rundil bumped him with her hip. "Behave."

Before Glorfindel could retort, Lord Elrond quickly asked, "Have you been seeing any healers?"

"Oh, yes, your sons are taking excellent care of me."

"Three months," Lady Galadriel breathed. "What damage does that do to the spirit?"

"A lot," Rundil assured her. She saw Lord Celeborn hide a grin.

"And you learned how to protect your mind in three months' time?"

Rundil shrugged. "Sauron is a very good teacher."

Glorfindel dropped a kiss on her head. "I love your morbid humour, Elfling."

"Love you too, Goldie."

"Goldie?"

"Isn't there something about a golden flower? And all the Vanyar hair."

"Been reading up on genealogies?"

"Oh yes, my darling rebel."

There came an intake of breath from the lady.

Glorfindel put his hand over Rundil's mouth. "We need to have a discussion on sensitive topics, Love. And not comparing Estel to a horse."

Lord Elrond lifted an eyebrow. "Eomer King," Glorfindel said by way of explanation.

* * *

Rundil was sitting on the rail of the paddock, watching Eomer work Firefoot in an attempt to clear his head. The figures of the twins approaching claimed her attention.

"Rundil," Elrohir grinned.

"Anything you wish to share?" Elladan inquired.

Rundil opened her mouth to tell them about Firefoot's excellence, but Elladan held up a hand. "Specifically concerning a certain golden-haired balrog-slayer?" he asked.

"He looks pretty good for a guy that died."

"Why did you kiss him?" Elrohir asked.

"I didn't kiss him!"

"You did."

"Elladan, tell him he has it wrong."

"Sorry, hon. I saw it with my own eyes. When you greeted him."

"Oh. But that was just a peck. You make it seems like we had a hot, intimate…"

"Lalalala, I am not listening to this!" Elrohir said, pushing his fingers into his ears.

Rundil rolled her eyes. "Oh alright!"

Elladan turned sharp eyes on her. "So you have kissed him casually before?"

"Yes, of course."

"Since when?"

"Errr… since the beginning I guess?"

"So you just kissed the man when you met him for the first time?"

"No, of course not! I think it started when we began sleeping together."

Elrohir spluttered and Elladan seemed somewhat green.

"Oh please, I'm not stupid. I know it means marriage. I meant that in the literal sense. When we travelled to Harad with Mith, we sometimes shared a bed due to space constraints or acted like a couple, since it is indecent in the Eastern cultures to travel together without being married." Her eyes regarded them shrewdly. "What is this all about?"

"Do you, er, generally go about kissing people?"

Rundil pulled up her nose. "No."

"Just Glorfindel?"

"Hey, now listen here, if you insinuating there is any romantic attachment…"

"He calls you love."

"You are the first person I have ever seen him kiss. Or hold hands. Or touch like that."

"Like what?"

"Like, I don't know, like you're a woman," Elladan said.

Rundil smirked at him.

"Look," he said, frustrated, running a hand through his hair "You two are touching more than Legolas and Eylra."

Rundil snorted. "Everybody touches more than Legolas and Eylra. They are so awkward it is painful."

"Point being, you are acting very couple-like."

"I haven't seen the man in two hundred years."

They dropped it after that and joined her on the fence, calling out bad advice at Eomer. He threw them a rude gesture before focusing on the horse again.

"How is he doing?" Elladan asked quietly.

Rundil pursed her lips. "He is doing as well as he can. Hopefully my latest scheme will help."

"And pray, what does Lord Glorfindel think of the two of you?" Elrohir winked at her.

Rundil punched him.


	4. Chapter 4

Rundil straightened as her tent-flap opened. She relaxed back into her bed when she recognised the golden head. "Hello."

She scooted over to make space for him. The bed dipped beneath his weight. "What are you reading?"

"A history on Gondolin."

She felt him tense and turned her head to face him. He was looking pale again. Rundil cupped his jaw with her one hand. He leant into her touch, closing his eyes and slumping into the bed.

"Do you ever get nightmares?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"Me too."

He opened his eyes and turned to face her, grabbing the opportunity to talk about something else. "About Sauron?"

She shook her head. "Melkor."

Glorfindel froze. After a few moments he gulped. "How...?" his voice was strangled.

"I really don't want to know."

His eyes sharpened and zeroed in on her face. "Rundil?"

She inhaled sharply. "That's not my name."

He tensed. "What?"

"I am pretty sure that's not my name. Have you ever wondered how come two elleths wandered the realms of men?"

His breathing had sped up. "There can be a number of reasons."

"My first memory is of running. Running, tugging Eylra along with a horrible feeling of dread and the need to flee, to blend in and an obsession to cover my ears. We were elflings still."

Glorfindel took a deep breath. "Rundil..."

She shook her head. "I really don't want to know. I suspect Eylra might remember if she tried. In the beginning she spoke of things I had no memory of. She obviously suspects, wonders. I do not speak of it, but she might figure something out." She met his eyes. They were dark and stormy. "I suspect you might know what is going on. I don't want to. I just thought someone should know, in case something happens."

"I know what happened," he rasped. "I know exactly what happened."

Rundil sighed in relief. "Good," she whispered leaning into him. "Then you know what to do."

Glorfindel swallowed. "What glamour are you wearing?"

Rundil let the glamour covering her ears fall back. Glorfindel's eyes snapped to them and he reached out a hand to it. He yanked it back. "Sorry."

Rundil shrugged. "Go ahead."

He stared at her then smiled wryly. "I hope you don't allow every male to touch your ears, Love. It is considered very inappropriate in public."

She frowned. "Elves. But we are not in public."

"Rundil, it is an act of intimacy."

"Oh." Her eyes snapped to his. "Glorfindel. Were you about to touch me inappropriately intimate?"

"I believe I was," he grinned.

Rundil shifted. "Does it count if a mortal touches it?"

His eyes focused. "Did a mortal touch your ears?" he growled.

"Calm down. I had no idea it was like that. He was just curious."

"Rundil," He growled again, leaning towards her.

She sighed. "Eomer never knew I was an elf and I confessed the other day."

Glorfindel's body coiled. "He touched your ears?"

"Yes." She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his. Glorfindel responded with a growl, flipping her onto her back and attacking her lips with a fury she had never seen in him before, not even during battle.

When he pulled back and she lay underneath him, panting, he met her eyes and growled, "No one ever touches your ears again. Understand?"

Rundil nodded mutely. He exhaled sharply and fell back onto the bed. Rundil shifted closer and curled up against him.

After a few moments of silence, Glorfindel looked at her. "About the glamour. What else do you have?"

Rundil frowned. "Nothing I know of."

"You are keeping it up. It saps your strength. Look for it."

She closed her eyes. "I am not getting anything."

He stroked her cheek. "It's alright. Remember to look for it and let me know when you find it."

"Okay." She snuggled into him. "Sorry about Eomer."

He sighed. "You did not know."

Rundil leant up to kiss him softly. He reciprocated gently, slowly deepening it and awaking a hunger deep within her. Rundil moaned, pressing closer to him, knotting her hands in his golden locks.

He pulled away and pecked her lips. "That's all for tonight," he whispered.

"Sadist," she growled and buried her face in his neck.

* * *

"So," said Elladan when she sat down next to him at breakfast.

"Morning," she mumbled and grabbed for bread and cheese.

"I saw something interesting when I did my rounds this morning," he continued. Rundil lifted an eyebrow, gulping down some milk.

"I saw a half-dressed Vanya leaving the tent of a commander of the Gondor army."

"What an interesting piece of gossip. Whatever could that mean? Oh! Do you think they are having a hot, deviant affair?" she rolled her eyes at him and took a big bite of her bread.

"Oh, come on Rundie! Take pity on a curious friend!"

"A meddlesome, rumour-mongering lordling with no sense of…"

"Morning!" a blonde giant sat down heavily across from them. Rundil beamed at him. "Éomer!"

He gave her a small smile. "Rundie, I was wondering if you would want to go for a ride with me this morning?"

Rundil's smile faded. "Oh. I was planning on catching up with some people I haven't seen in a while. And I heard Aragorn has a surprise at noon?"

"Of course. I forgot." He gave a boyish grin. Rundil could not help but smile back. "Listen," she leaned over the table. "I heard…"

"Ah, breakfast!" Glofindel sat down next to Eomer and grabbed a piece of bread and some cheese. He smiled a hard smile at Eomer. "Hi there. I'm Glorfindel."

Eomer looked slightly dizzy.

"I thought you were having breakfast with Mithrandir?" Rundil frowned.

"That is true." He shrugged. "Must be the hobbits. I am starting to see the appeal of second breakfast."

Rundil sighed. "In any case, Glorfindel, this is Eomer." She gave him a glare. "And I was just telling him," she looked back at Eomer with a grin. "It seems like the plan is working. I overheard lady Lothíriel asking around about you. And any _attachments_."

Eomer grinned back at her. "Did she now? So now the only thing to is…?"

"Have a big, public break-up?" Elladan, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, butted in.

Rundil rolled her eyes. "We were never courting. We just spent copious amounts of time together, since we were both broken and lonely and had not seen each other on some time. Now, my sister is back, Eomer is better, Goldie over here is going to monopolise my time again and Aragron is getting married."

Elladan frantically waved at her with his hands. "What?"

"Secret!" he hissed. Rundil waved his frantic gestures away. "Oh come on. Only the truly dense do not know what is coming."

Eomer cleared his throat pointedly. Rundil lifted an eyebrow. "Seriously? Why else would the Lord and Lady themselves be here?"

"Oh I don't know, perhaps to celebrate Sauron's defeat?"

She shook her head at him. "The only hope for the Riddermark is Lothíriel. Probably better if you say as little as possible until you are married."

"Hey now, woman!"

Eomer jumped up and leaned over the table to take a swipe at her. Rundil caught his fist and grinned at him. He shook his head at her and leaned back. "Well, thanks for the company. I'd better go lay down some courting plans." He nodded at Glofindel. "Good to meet you, Lord Glorfindel."

The Vanya nodded gravely. "You too, Eomer King."

"Goldie, huh?" Elladan asked and took a spoonful of porridge.

Glorfindel shook his head back effeminately. "Yes, well, it was only a matter of time until these gorgeous locks caught up with me."

Elladan stared. "You know, there are rumours. And when you do that I can completely understand why."

"Oh, those ones of him and Erestor?" Rundil asked excitedly. Elladan stared at her. "Yes, indeed."

She swung to Glorfindel. He was laughing helplessly.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," she pouted.

"What can I say?" Glorfindel said. "The more outrageous cover stories we make up, the less likely people are to believe it."

Elladan's eyes were steadily growing. "How long until you were found out?" Rundil asked. He shrugged. "A few centuries. Lindir stumbled onto us in a… compromising situation."

"You were doing a type of dwarvish wrestling that requires the wearing of only towels!" Elladan said. Glofindel cleared his throat. "Yes, well."

Rundil laughed. Elladan looked at her questioningly. "Have you never heard that euphemism before?" she laughed at him.

Elladan looked at her, then at Glorfindel, then pushed his bowl away. "Excuse me."

Rundil looked at Glorfindel and started laughing helplessly again. "Is that how you have been keeping yourself entertained?"

He grinned at her. "You know how I love rumour-mongering. And it upsets Erestor so. He refuses to speak with me for months after particularly bad episodes. I need to win back his favour with gifts and songs…"

Rundil wiped at her eyes. "I have missed this."

"Lying together? We are unusually skilled at that."

She lightly swiped at him. "It's easy to work with you."

"I missed you too, Rundil."

"Two hundred years, hey?"

"We have some catching up to do. Fancy a walk?"

"Yes."


End file.
